


Bonding Time

by swtalmnd



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Charity Auctions, Community: inceptiversary, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Arthur runs an exotic pet sitting and boarding service. Eames has some exotic pets.





	Bonding Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mary_Jane221B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jane221B/gifts).



> Thank you SO MUCH to Mary_Jane221B for your patience with this, given that you won it back in July in the Inceptiversary 2017 AnArtificialAspidistra Memorial Charity Auction.
> 
> Also thanks to kate_the_reader for the beta as usual, and everyone else who cheered me on or made me cute it up. Slack is the best.

"Arthur's Ark, this is Arthur speaking," he said, the answer so rote by now that he sometimes answered his mom's calls that way.

"Arthur," purred a low, British-accented voice. "Exotic pet care is something of a speciality for you, I understand?"

"That's correct. Are you interested in boarding or home care?" Arthur asked, pulling up a new client contact in his database.

"Home care, for now, though we might need to board later," said the man. "I have a pair of sugar gliders that need someone to feed them on the evenings I have to work."

Arthur hmmed. "That seems quite doable, Mr..." His fingers tapped away entering data.

"Eames. Just Eames." He sounded amused. "Can you give me a quote?"

Arthur sighed, since this where he often lost people. "I'll really need to see the location and meet your pets before I can give you a quote."

"Worried they're hellions?" said Eames with a laugh. "Yes, all right, can I get an appointment sometime soon, then?"

"How about tonight? If you're free, I could come by, um, around seven depending on the travel time." Arthur had pulled up his calendar and was looking at his evening rounds, which included exercising Mrs. Cobb's pygmy goat and checking in on the Professor's collection of exotic lizards.

"Oh, bless you," said Eames. "Seven would be great, I can make us dinner."

Arthur blinked. "It's not a date, Mr. Eames," he said, though it was a gentle scold as he rather enjoyed the sound of the man's voice, and also wanted the job. "Text me the address?"

"I'll make dinner anyway," Eames replied, thankfully not offended. "And text you as soon as we've hung up so you can come meet the three of us."

"Thank you," said Arthur, not sure what else to say. "There's no charge for the consultation."

"Perish the thought," replied Eames. "I'll let you go, darling, and see you in a few hours."

"Yes, of course. See you soon." Arthur hung up feeling confused and annoyingly interested in his potential new client. Instead of dwelling on it, he added the appointment to his calendar, including the address as it arrived in his texts. He'd need to do a bit more research on sugar gliders before he left to make sure he didn't screw himself on the quote, so he put Eames' voice and accent and 'darling' out of his mind and got to work.

* * *

Despite the pygmy goat, Arthur managed to look his new-client best when he arrived at Eames' place. He tended to go for a kind of upscale business casual for new meetings, and today he had on a dark olive shirt, linen vest, and khaki trousers that had been meticulously lint-rolled, post-goat.

He tried not to be envious of the beautiful painted lady as he knocked on her green-gold door, surrounded by rich coral trim that somehow worked with the warm, golden-grey accents to bridge the gap.

"Either you're Arthur or I'm just very lucky," said the familiar voice, as the door swung open to reveal a man every bit as handsome and eccentric as his house. He had perfect two-day scruff, a mouth to kill for, a shirt with softly pastel vertical stripes in varying widths, and loosely-cut trousers that broke elegantly over bare feet.

"The former," said Arthur, holding out his hand to shake. "It's good to meet you, Mr. Eames."

"Just Eames, darling," he said, turning to display an ass that any man in San Francisco would be proud of and leading Arthur into the house.

Arthur closed the door behind them to give himself a moment to get his thoughts out of his pants and back onto business, then followed Eames through the narrow corridor and into an obviously remodeled open great room that led into the kitchen. One quarter of the room was an elaborate habitat for the sugar gliders, a floor to ceiling cage full of comfortable furniture for them. A dining table took up another quarter, and the rest was the usual living room stuff, giant tv and cozy seating that practically invited one to curl up.

"Your house is beautiful," said Arthur. He sighed softly at the welcoming feel of it, and caught the scent of something delicious. "Did you really make dinner?"

A broad grin broke across Eames' face. "That I did. Have a seat, I'll bring it out in a moment; we'll meet my gliders after you're fed."

"You really didn't have to," said Arthur, wandering over to the dining table and wondering just what kind of work Eames did that he could afford a place like this in the city.

"Oh, trust me," said Eames, pausing at the doorway into the kitchen, "generations of Eames women would disagree with that, darling."

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at that, and he took the time to spread his napkin on his lap and get out his iPad to set beside himself, a reminder that this was not, in fact, a dinner date at a hot guy's expensive townhouse.

Eames brought out a big tray full of something that smelled amazing and looked even better, filo dough tartlets with some kind of garlicky filling. "Start with a couple of these, darling, it's spanakopita."

"Erm, thank you," said Arthur awkwardly, teasing one hot morsel off the tray and onto his plate carefully. He blew on it while Eames vanished, and then ventured a cautious nibble that was rewarded with a delicious mix of cheese, garlic, and spinach along with the flaky filo. He made a possibly obscene noise and sat back to just enjoy the bite.

"I guess you like them," said Eames, beaming as he put a lasagna on the table. "This is moussaka, I was in a Greek mood, I hope you don't mind? I didn't have time for salads."

Arthur chuckled. "I'm not a big fan of salad, anyway," he said, taking another bite of the delicious treat instead. "Mm, this is amazing and I'm definitely going to be happy to help with your sugar gliders if this is my reward."

"Well, this and money," said Eames, stealing Arthur's plate to serve up a big helping of moussaka and a few more of the little spanakopita treats.

"And money," agreed Arthur, accepting the return of his laden plate with anticipation. "God, this smells delicious."

"Thank you," replied Eames congenially. He was all easy charm and smiles with just an edge of smarminess that somehow managed to be appealing. He dug into his food with gusto, clearly enjoying it for itself.

"Are you a chef or something?" asked Arthur, after he finished his first spanakopita tart. He was dying to try the moussaka, so that was what he dug into next. The flavors were a delicious melange of beef and eggplant, tomato and spices that weren't quite what he expected, the potato another surprise that made it completely different from lasagna despite looking similar on the outside.

"Or something," said Eames, eyes twinkling with mischief. "This is my main hobby, aside from these guys." He gestured with his fork, not toward the cage, but to his pocket, which Arthur realized now was bulging and wriggling slightly. First one, then another adorable face popped out, and Eames chuckled. "You two are meant to sleep through this bit, no Greek food for you."

"They're very well-bonded, how old are they?" asked Arthur, taking another bite of the moussaka. He figured if he asked enough questions, he'd be able to enjoy both the food and Eames' voice, not to mention learning more about the job at hand. Pocket. Whatever.

"They're quite young yet, only five months, but I'm afraid I've got a client right now that won't let me bring them along on jobs." He looked regretful, stroking their heads with his free hand.

"They might bond to me," said Arthur dubiously. "I mean, clearly you're their main human, but sugar gliders will bond to a whole family group."

"Hm," said Eames, nibbling thoughtfully -- and rather distractingly -- at a pastry. "Well, I guess I'd just have to keep paying you to play with them, then?"

Arthur chuckled. "That's definitely an option, there's a few animals I visit on a regular basis." He was fond of most of them, even the pygmy goat, and he was working on finding a different caretaker for the one frilled lizard that just couldn't stand the sight of him.

Eames nodded, kissing both fuzzy heads, which had the effect of soothing them back to their nap. "You seem pleasant enough to have around so far. Tell me about yourself while we eat, maybe?"

"Exotic animals are something of a passion of mine," said Arthur, ducking his head and grinning shyly. "I love the research, and getting to learn something new and visit all these different pets. I have a tortoise I inherited from my grandpa, and a couple of rescue cats, but most of the pets I care for are other people's."

"That tells me about your business, darling, but you must have other interests?" Eames digs into his food as if to demonstrate.

"You haven't told me what you do for a living," retorted Arthur, blushing just a little. "I mean, work is my biggest hobby, but I also read a lot of near-future scifi and mystery novels."

"That is a very specific genre," said Eames.

"I like specificity," Arthur shot back, though the conversation felt more like a ping pong game than a battle, just tossing things back and forth to see what the other person would do with them.

Eames chuckled. "All right, well, I am specifically a fashion photographer, and thus my eccentricity carrying these babies around is largely tolerated, but for some reason this latest model is being a bit difficult about them."

"I also like indie rock and troll Soundcloud a lot on my phone," said Arthur, smiling now. "Have you ever modeled?" He ate another tartlet, feeling somewhat regretful that he was already starting to feel full.

"Quid pro quo is it now?" Eames chuckled. "I have, when I was younger, but I like it better on this side of the camera. No one tuts over my age lines or whether I've cut enough this time around."

"Cut enough?" said Arthur, brows furrowing.

"Oh, bulking and cutting, it's a bodybuilding thing. Not really a hobby of mine anymore, though I do enough to maintain what I've got," Eames explained, looking almost embarrassed. "I went through a period of wanting to be very big and manly."

"It's a good look on you," said Arthur with a soft smile. "Under the fashionable clothing, anyway."

Eames perked up immediately. "Why, thank you. I'm quite impressed that you manage to handle animals in your current state, as well."

Arthur chuckled. "Ah, thank you. I'm not always this dressed up, but new client, you know."

"I do indeed know," said Eames. "I see you liked the food?"

"It's delicious," said Arthur, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. "Seriously, I haven't eaten this well in ages."

"I'm going to have to do a proper spread for you sometime, and not just two dishes," said Eames, preening under the praise. "I'm glad you read, anyway, a lot of bonding time with these guys is just sitting with them."

Arthur gave Eames a curious look and then asked, heart fluttering, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Eames shook his head, smiling wryly. "Nor a boyfriend, I'm afraid."

"Me, neither," said Arthur, "though it would be the latter."

Eames cocked his head curiously, waiting for Arthur to make his point.

"Would you like to date?" asked Arthur, after a sip of water to wet his suddenly dry mouth. Eames had added a bit of lime and mint to it, which only really registered after the fact.

Eames' mouth widened into a grin. "That would be even better than having a stranger bonded to my babies, I must admit."

"Which part, dating me, or dating your petsitter?" asked Arthur, a little archly.

Eames' eyes crinkled. "Dating you, and knowing you'll be getting attached to all three of us. Which I will still pay for, until such time as I can lure you into my beautiful home permanently."

"It is a very beautiful home," said Arthur, "but that's a long way away. Let's start with this dinner, and maybe a movie after?" He gestured toward Eames' big tv, to show he didn't mean going out and lines and crowds, just a quiet evening in.

"That's a good start," said Eames, picking up Arthur's hand and kissing his knuckles; Eames' lips were just as soft as they looked. "But don't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling."

* * *

Arthur unlocked the now-familiar gold door, which as usual took on a lovely greenish hue as it swung into the darkened house. "I'm home!" he called, leaving his rain-damp shoes, umbrella, and overcoat in the hall before padding into the living room and over to the big cage, ankles gently assaulted along the way by his cats, Sterling and Dick. The tortoise, George, had taken up residence in the sugar gliders' cage and seemed mostly happy to nap there, though he ambled out now in search of his food bowl. "How are you?"

Two striped heads popped up out of their hanging habitat, this one in the shape of a Christmas ornament in deference to the season. Arthur opened the door and walked in, and they launched one after the other and glided down to him, making happy little noises of welcome. "Feeling very chipper this afternoon, I see," said Arthur, allowing them to climb all over him and find their own comfortable perches for now.

"Dextrose and Sucrose have been very good girls all afternoon," said Eames, coming behind Arthur to wrap him in strong, warm arms. "I was doing some deep frying, so I banished them to the cage."

Arthur turned and got a kiss from him. "I'll take them upstairs to change, then, and come down here to read." He'd learned not to ask about impending food, because Eames loved his surprises and Arthur loved everything he cooked.

Eames kissed him again and asked softly, "Do you miss boarding?"

Arthur kissed his nose. "Not really, and Ariadne does a great job with that." After he'd decided to take Eames up on his offer to move in, he'd found an assistant to take over his old lease and board the animals for them. With a second pair of hands, they could take on more jobs and split up the territories -- it turned out that Mr. Hoole's frilled lizard liked Ariadne just fine.

Business was booming, for both him and Eames, and Arthur was looking forward to a very good Christmas this year.

"Good," said Eames, stealing a warm, sweet kiss. "Now go change, dinner will be half an hour or so."

Arthur smiled and nuzzled him, laughing when Suki poked her nose up to get kisses as well, followed by Dexy, who preferred to lick noses.

They went their separate ways, cats following Eames in hopes of treats, sugar gliders clinging to Arthur's waistcoat. Arthur changed into warm flannel pyjamas and a sweatshirt with a nice big pocket for the girls to snuggle in. His book was already downstairs and it was, he thought, quite as good a life as he ever could have dreamed up for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Even though this is loosely set in SF, most of the pets mentioned here are illegal to import into California. Just, you know, fyi.


End file.
